


Cherry Ice

by secretsofthesky



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29909475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsofthesky/pseuds/secretsofthesky
Summary: A brief backstory of Alexei's life.
Kudos: 1





	Cherry Ice

He was eight years old the last time he saw his family.

It had been a day his parents had been anticipating since he was old enough to speak. 

From a young boy he had been told he was gifted, a prodigy, forced to study even as the other kids his age were allowed to play.  _ “Those kids don’t have the future you have Alexei, you must study and then you can play,” _ they told him.  _ “Be a good boy now.” _

He remembered it clearly as if twenty years had not passed, being woken before the sun rays ever touched the sky and told to put on the shirt and slacks his mother had spent all night pressing to perfection. They hadn't been his; a man in town had allowed his father to borrow them for the day and the sleeves were too long, the waist too tight, but every time he would fidget with them or complain, his mother would slap his hand gently and tell him to behave.  _ "Show them how smart you are, Alexei," _ she just told him again and again. He had protested still, just wanting to go to his friend Mikhail's home to watch television like he had been promised. 

Mikhail’s family lived in the same small town and did not have much more money than his, but they had enough to where Mikhail and his brother didn’t have to sleep on the floor like Alexei and his sister did and a small TV with an antenna that, if you twisted it just the right way, would show a fuzzy image of a rabbit, duck, and other characters running around and getting into trouble. Their voices were in English and he had no idea what it was that they said, but they made him laugh anyways. They made him happy - a feeling that was generally foreign. Sometimes, as they crowded in front of the small TV to watch the fuzzy animation, Mikhail’s mother would crush ice and add sugar and mashed cherries to it for a treat for them if they were good. 

His days at Mikhail’s were his favorite days. 

_ “Show the General how smart you are Alexei, do this for us, for your family and your little sister, and you can watch as many cartoons as you want,” _ his father told him as he combed his unruly hair to the side and his mother picked lint from his clothes.

And so he did. 

He solved the equations they gave him and figured out the problems in a quicker time than it took the doctor, the general, and his men they had brought with them to explain. Standing there, with men holding guns and in front of him and his parents and their weary malnourished bodies shaking with nerves behind him, he had no idea at the time that he’d sold himself away by giving the right answers. 

If he  _ had _ known, he would have answered them wrong without a thought. Though he had no idea what the consequences would have been for wasting their time. He still would have risked it.

They had taken him right then, his mother crying in protest that it wasn’t part of the deal and one soldier throwing her to the floor when she tried to take his hand. His last memory of her was of her crying face and horror filled eyes as his father held her and told him to be strong and do what the men said. 

No pictures, no letters, just that last image burned into his brain of them crying as they watched the soldiers lead him away.

He was thirteen when he witnessed his first murder. One of the lab workers that was helping him dropped a beaker and in a moment, without even a thought, a guard had shot him and told the other lab workers to clean up the mess and not make the same mistake he had. He had cried himself to sleep that night for the first time since he was taken away, feeling responsible, feeling scared. Knowing death would be the only way he would ever be free of these people - and for a moment actually envied the lab worker for getting to escape. 

The years that followed only drove that point home. The things he was made to do - things he knew would result in death and destruction to so many - killed him a little bit more inside every day until there was barely anything left. 

He had protested once when he was fifteen, and a guard had stepped forward and pulled a picture from his pocket, a picture of his sister Ilya, now older, more beautiful than he remembered with his fathers light hair and his mothers eyes. He didn’t need to be told that it was a threat. That if he stepped out of line, it would not only be his death that came but theirs as well. It was the only thing that stopped him from grabbing one of the many guns that surrounded him daily and ending it all. 

He knew his time was coming fast though when he watched his mentor, the man who had come to his home and given him the test in front of the General all those years ago, slowly die in front of him at the hands of the Generals assassin - a man he had witnessed perform unspeakable crimes since he was just a boy. The doctor's eyes had flashed to Alexei’s as he fought for air, apology filling their depths, regret pooling as the life faded from them. 

So as he sat there slowly bleeding out from the wound in his belly, he was okay. He had come to terms with his life, and he was ready for death. He had been ready for a very,  _ very _ long time. 

His only regret was nearly leaving the Americans a few hours before. They had shown him more compassion than he had experienced since he was a young boy, even in their fear of him. But this day - this day of cartoons and games and cherry slushies had been the best day he had had since he was a young boy sitting on the floor in Mikhail’s house watching cartoons with his friend after hours of studying.

It was that memory that brought a smile to his lips, lips still tasting faintly of cherries, as he drew in his last breath and closed his eyes. 

The sound of a merry go round, laughing children, and the image of a black and white cat chasing after a little yellow bird following him into the dark. 


End file.
